Legacy
by Hamilcar
Summary: DH SPOILERS. Nextgen, crossover fic. Everybody tells Scorpius he looks like his father Draco but he's always fancied that he looks more like his uncle Pietro. Ch. 5: Presents are given and the Malfoy Christmas party brings together a number of people.
1. Arc 1: Unwilling Attendance

OOO

Standing on Platform 9 and ¾, Scorpius Magnus Malfoy was not looking at the other students beginning to gather around the train. Nor was he focused on what his parents were saying or paying any attention to the children his father was pointing at, giving him some direction about beating them in academic and sporting endeavors. The young Malfoy was blind to all of this.

Instead his mind was focused on coming up with something, anything, that would allow him to go to the institute back in New York rather than Hogwarts.

He'd tried running at every opportunity but never went any faster than a normal 11-year-old boy would be expected to go; certainly not as fast as his uncle. He'd tried to fly of his own volition or conjure hex bolts like his mother could, but to no avail. He stared at the rails the train was resting on, trying with all his might to move the metal like his grandfather could have, but the iron remained unmoved.

"I don't wanna go," he at last whispered miserably. "I wanna go to the institute, with Petra."

Draco Malfoy sighed. "We've discussed this, Scorpius. You haven't manifested any mutation yet but you have performed accidental magic. Therefore you must be schooled in the area in which your talents are certain to lie."

"Well what if I'm just a late bloomer? Couldn't I keep going to regular school until I do get my powers?"

"And risk losing out on all possibility of a wizarding education if you never develop a mutation? Certainly not," his father responded firmly.

"Don't be sad, Scorpius dear," his mother patted his shoulder, leaning over so that her waves of chestnut hair fell across her face. "If you mutate when you're a bit older, we'll discuss transferring you out. OK? And it's perfectly normal not to be a mutant at your age; back when I was young, most of us didn't mutate until puberty, some not until we were 15 or 16. You have time."

Rather than feeling reassured, Scorpius made a face. "I hate England," he muttered. "And I hate Hogwarts and I hate wizards and I hate you two for making me go here."

He stomped off, hoping that his feet would at least crack the concrete; he had no such luck, however, but instead had to struggle with his trunk and the cage that held his owl. He pressed forward, still angry with his parents and at himself for not mutating and even at his uncle Pietro for not showing up to see him off – not that he was surprised. England was a long way away, even for him.

Scorpius didn't look back to wave his mother and father goodbye as he boarded; instead, he bitterly reflected on the fun that Petra was probably having in the Danger Room at that very moment.

OOO

Petra Alvers tried unsuccessfully to focus on the lesson that Professor Munroe was giving about European history. It was the first year her parents had allowed her to go to the Xavier School for Gifted Youngsters. Her father Lance had been wary of the whole idea – he and her godfather Pietro had been troublemakers when they were young and they'd always been suspicious of any educational system since – but her mother Katherine had insisted.

Without Scorpius, however, school seemed lonely. Not even getting her own codename, Tremor, had made up for losing her childhood friend. Together they'd been like – well, like the Brotherhood that her father and his uncle sometimes told them about. A real troublemaking team, at least until they'd been forced to split up.

To make matters worse, she found out that she wouldn't be training physically for a while; the first few weeks would be lessons in theory, ethics, that sort of thing.

He was lucky, she thought, to have talents besides being a mutant. Being a wizard seemed so much cooler the way he described what his dad Draco could do. And they already had a society all their own, secluded from the humans – unlike mutants who had to mingle, often with disastrous results.

She looked out the window; he'd promised to send her an owl as soon as possible and that letter couldn't come soon enough, she thought, suppressing a yawn.

OOO

"So who was she?" Ron Weasley asked, taking a swig of his drink. He was seated in a polished table at the Leaky Cauldron with his wife and the Potters. "I didn't recognize her at all."

"Some American," replied Ginny. "Heard that he left England soon after turning 18 to escape his reputation and whatnot. Went to America, did something with the government over there, something involving potions. I can't really be specific since I've only heard rumors, but apparently he made a fortune doing it. And then five years later he showed up in England with a wife. They've been going back and forth ever since."

"Is she a witch?" Harry inquired, his brow furrowed.

"That's the thing," Hermione added. "Nobody knows. Some people swear they've seen her perform magic but as far as anybody knows she doesn't own or use a wand. And the Malfoys certainly aren't going to be forthcoming. Draco still avoids the press even now. He's never in England for very long and when he is, he tends to be secluded."

"Well we could ask, couldn't we?" Ron suggested.

Ginny scoffed. "Are you daft? Walk up to Draco Malfoy and go "'Scuse me but we were wondering – care to fill us in on your wife? What's the story there?' He'd hex you six ways to Sunday."

"Her too, maybe," Hermione spoke up.

"I don't really care," Harry stated, motioning the waiter to get him another firewhiskey, "So long as they stay away from our lot."

OOO

Looking out of the window, Scorpius tried to readjust his hair, raking his fingers through the mousse-filled strands. When he was in England, people who bothered speaking to him usually told him he looked like his father Draco. Grandpa Lucius reminded him of it every time he saw him, often following up the statement of resemblance with an admonishment to behave. He, however, always fancied that he looked more like his Uncle Pietro, and he tried to style his hair in the same way.

Uncle Pietro's hair never looked pretentious, he thought with a sigh. It always looked rakish, flung backwards as if he'd just come in from somewhere running a million miles an hour, whipped by the wind into a devil-may-care look. It was hair that spoke of trouble and misadventure and fun. It was about as exciting as hair could get.

Usually he had no problem getting his hair to do what he wanted, even if his mother disapproved and his father used words like 'wreck' and 'mess' and 'ragamuffin.' Today, however, he had no such luck; his hair sat like a helmet, each strand falling back into place no matter how he tried to muss it.

Frustrated, he pulled out a quill and parchment and left the hair alone. It simply wasn't cooperating. At least he could get started on a letter to Petra, though. He was just reflecting on how nice it was to have privacy and how lucky he was to get a compartment alone, when the door slid open.

"Hey there," a boy puffed as if he'd been running. "Mind if we hide out in here?"

"I don't really think…"

"Thanks!" He shoved his way inside along with a red-headed girl. "Hiding out from siblings," he explained hastily. "So," he turned to face Scorpius and stuck out his hand. "I'm Albus and this is Rose. And you are…?"

Albus… why did that name seem familiar… ah. The Potter boy. Of course.

"Scorpius Malfoy," he replied calmly without lifting his eyes from the parchment he was writing on. "'Spect you'll want to leave now."

"Well, no, not necessarily," Albus replied, nervously biting his lip and attempting to be nice. "Besides, we can't let James know this is where we got to or he'll probably try to use us to demonstrate the effect of jinxes again."

Despite himself, Scorpius nearly laughed but stifled it just in time. Instead he shrugged.

"Suit yourself."

He kept writing as Albus and Rose chatted to one another for the next few minutes. Soon, however, Albus became interested in what he was doing.

"What's that you're writing?" He leaned over just slightly and Scorpius moved the paper further away so he couldn't see.

"Letter."

"Well no kidding," Rose rolled her eyes. "He means who is it to?"

"Nobody." Scorpius snapped. "Don't be so nosy."

"It was just a question," Albus said quietly, sinking back into his seat.

"Well it was a nosy question," he huffed, stuffing the paper back into the satchel sitting next to him. As he tilted it to put his quill in, a rectangle of paper fluttered out. Before he could stop him, Albus scooped it up.

It was a Muggle photograph, near as Albus could tell, that had Scorpius and a young girl in the middle, surrounded by a group of rough looking men. The girl had on torn jeans with a lacy black shirt and dingy pink vest. Her hair was pulled back and she was grinning; Scorpius, dressed in a green shirt with jeans, was too. Next to and behind him was a silver-haired man who slightly resembled Draco, but not really, and a tall, corpulent man; behind the girl was a brown-haired man who looked rather like her, torn jeans and all, and a man with mussed hair and dull skin squatting in an unusual position. They were all grinning like it was a holiday, Scorpius and the girl more than any.

"Is this who you were writing to?" Albus asked, looking down.

"Give that back!" Scorpius snatched the picture away with an affronted air. "She's none of your business."

"Is she a Muggle?" He persisted.

"No! Never mind!" He slid the picture back into the bag and pulled it onto his lap with a pout, then stared out the window.

"Just trying to be friends," Albus sighed.

"Well don't," Scorpius sniffed. "I already have friends in America, I don't need friends here. Besides, I won't be here long anyway."

"What's that mean? Planning on dropping out?" Rose laughed.

"No," he muttered through gritted teeth. "I'll be going to a better school. In America. Where I have friends. Where I'll learn to _be_ something."

"You could have friends here," Albus suggested timidly. "And who says a wizard isn't being something? You could be an Auror or a Healer or a Quidditch player…" he trailed off when he realized the other boy was trying not to pay attention.

Scorpius didn't respond. He continued to stare out the window, silent, until Albus went back to talking to Rose. Neither of them made any more attempts to talk to him and he didn't even look at them for the rest of the trip.

OOO

When the owl arrived at her window later that night, clearly exhausted from its long trip, Petra hurried to open the panes and let it in. It collapsed on her bed and she quickly untied the letter from its leg, slightly ripping the parchment in her haste.

_Dear Petra,_

_Everything here sucks and I hate England. :( Everybody uses weird words like "lift" and "loo" and speaks with a funny accent and acts like I'm the one who talks weird. And no electronics work around the castle which means I can't use my video games, not even the handheld ones, or my iPod and all they pick up here is wizard music, which also sucks. And no TVs work either and even if they did all the shows in Britain suck – BBC LAME. At least when we're at our home in Wiltshire dad can do stuff to circumvent that; but here I'm going to miss out on everything. (Which reminds me – let me know how the latest Iron Chef America worked out. Go Mario!)_

_We got sorted into our Houses like I told you about, by means of a hat; I got into Slytherin like my dad which sucks even worse because everybody hates us and they all hate me because my dad… well, you know. So I'm getting crap from both sides, basically. And there's all sorts of curfew rules and stuff, but even if there weren't, there's nowhere cool like NYC to sneak out to. All we have is a lame-ass forest that's __supposed__ to be dangerous. But it just looks like a bunch of dumb trees to me._

_I already miss you and Uncle Pietro and your dad and Todd and Fred and everybody. Everybody here either avoids me or acts like I'm going to corrupt them or something. Well… that's not quite true. There's this kid called Albus who was kinda friendly on the ride up, if a bit nosy; but his dad hates mine and even if he wasn't pretending, it wouldn't last. Besides, nobody could ever be as much fun to hang out with as you. We do have a lake with a Giant Squid and that's kinda cool, but I still miss Central Park; next time you go there, leave a rose or two at Strawberry Fields for me. _

_Hope you're having fun in the Danger Room sessions; as for me, I can't even have a broom of my own yet because I'm a first year. Hope I learn to fly on my own soon or I might go crazy. Remember that room I told you about? I'm going to use it to train so that when I do get my powers, I won't be out of shape and I can catch right up to you and everybody else at the mansion. Speaking of which, your powers sound crazy cool and you'll have to show me your progress when I come home for Christmas. It was awesome when you made the ground shake and if you have more control over rocks and earth, maybe we can build a fort! I keep trying to bring out my own powers but no luck yet. I'll let you know the moment they show up, though. _

_Anyway, I should probably get going or this letter won't get there in time. Quicksilver (that's what I named my owl – after my uncle and your godfather. Cool, hunh?) has a long way to go and he won't get there if he doesn't leave soon. Hope you're doing alright; write back and tell me everything._

_Bye for now._

_Your Friend,_

_Scorpius M. Malfoy_

_P.S. __Brotherhood forever!!!_

Sitting down at her desk, Petra pulled out a ream of black line paper and sparkly gel pens that would show up on it and started her own letter, while the owl took a nap on a cushion she'd set out for it. If she hurried she could finish it before lights out time and then the owl could take it in the morning.

OOO

Scorpius made his way down the hall and paced in front of the door where he knew the Room of Requirement to be; his father had given him very specific directions and he only hoped he hadn't forgotten anything. Screwing his eyes shut and concentrating, he thought about his need to have a place where he could train physically, that would have martial arts and gymnastics equipment.

When he opened his eyes there was a door there, just waiting for him. He walked through it, unaware that he had been followed and was being watched.

OOO

A/N: A couple years back I toyed with a Draco/Wanda fic and when I read the epilogue, the crossover bug struck again, what with Scorpius' mum's name not being mentioned and all. If people like it, I might continue; I really just wanted to get this out and down on paper. Cathartic I guess. And a note: It's mostly Evolution-based (hence the Lancitty) although Wanda's more of a mainstream, less goth, Wanda. As for Scorpius' language/attitude – Pietro and Co. have taught him many, many bad habits (and maybe one or two good ones). And as for the OC Petra - she's named after Pietro, but it also means rock, a reference to her powers.

So – continue or not? Delete it? Thoughts? Ideas? Comments? Critiques? All are welcome.


	2. Arc 1: Memory Lane

OOO

"This isn't right," Rose hissed into Albus' ear. "We should be back in our dorms, not wandering about after curfew."

"Come on, Rose. Our uncles and parents did stuff like this all the time."

"I know; my mother warned me about it and told me that I shouldn't get up to such antics."

"Quiet," he replied, ignoring her argument. "I have to concentrate for this to work."

He paced outside of where the room was to be found and focused on thoughts of wanted to find out where Scorpius had gone. A door appeared and he opened it quietly, motioning for Rose to come with him. Sighing softly, she followed, though an annoyed look was written across her face.

When they entered the found a room filled with mats and equipment with what looked to be various types of Muggle weapons on the sides. At one end of the room was a beam, several feet off the floor, on which Scorpius, dressed in a t-shirt and shorts, was doing back flips.

Albus and Rose watched for a moment, dumbfounded at the athleticism that his frame didn't betray. As he came towards the end of the beam, Albus cleared his throat.

"Hey!" He shouted.

Scorpius, who had just leaped off of the beam, gave a spasm of surprise and landed off-balance, tipping backwards and falling onto the mat.

"You ruined my dismount!" He glowered at Albus. "And how did you get in here anyway? This room is supposed to be a secret," he said, standing and brushing himself off.

"I focused on thoughts of finding where you were," Albus shrugged with a grin, trotting over to where Scorpius was with Rose following a few paces behind. "Followed you from the common room. That was wicked cool you know! Can you show me how to do that?"

"From the common room?" Scorpius scoffed, pulling on his dress shirt and tugging slacks over the shorts. "How did you even know where it was?" He asked as he shrugged his robe on around his shoulders.

"Uh… I got into the same house you did," Albus replied, looking confused. "You mean you didn't notice?"

"I was a little more focused on thoughts of how soon I can get out of here," Scorpius retorted. "That's why I'm practicing – not that it's any business of yours."

"Oh. Well… could you still show me how you did that? The flippy thing?"

Again, Scorpius laughed derisively. "It takes loads of practice to even stay on the beam or do cartwheels. I doubt you could even walk across it."

"Can too!" He immediately ran over and awkwardly climbed onto the beam. He walked for a few shaky feet then tipped sharply over the side of the beam and toppled onto the floor.

Sighing impatiently, Scorpius nevertheless went over and offered him a hand up. "See? I told you so," he said smugly. "Stuff like that takes practice."

"Well then I'll practice just like you do!"

"You won't have the time," he replied coolly. "You'll have homework and such."

"And you won't?" Rose spoke up for the first time.

Scorpius shrugged. "I'm sure I will. But I won't be doing it. Not like it matters if I fail or get detentions. It's not relevant to what I want to do anyway, whereas this is."

"You're a real jerk, you know that?!" Rose snapped. "Albus is just trying to be friendly, even though were breaking the rules to come here, and you just keep acting like you're too good for us, too good for Hogwarts, too good for everything!"

"Well I never asked you to come," Scorpius snapped. "Besides, you're a Ravenclaw," he pointed to her robes. "It's even less of your concern."

"I came because Albus asked – and he's my friend."

"Then that's your mistake and don't go blaming me for it. I already told you, I have friends back in America and don't need them here!"

"You brat!" She shouted. "Why's that? Think we're not good enough to be your friends?"

"Yes!" He yelled. "That's it! Fine, whatever, just go away and let me workout in peace!"

"You know, I don't think that's it," Albus said softly yet still managing to interrupt the altercation.

"What isn't it?" Rose wheeled on him, annoyed.

"I don't think it's that he doesn't think we're good enough to be his friends," Albus said, looking at Scorpius. "You're afraid that if you make friends in two places you'll have to eventually choose between them, aren't you?"

"No," Scorpius retorted but his face bespoke his uncertainty.

"I mean, right now you sound like you're pretty sure that you hate England and everything about it, so if you ever get the chance to leave it it's no choice, really. But once you become attached, you might not want to leave Hogwarts. And even if you do, you might be afraid to regret it.

"This way – no tough decisions, no doubts, no regrets. Right?"

Scorpius didn't answer and, glancing at Rose who nodded, Albus decided to press on.

"Look, you're going to be here for at least a while, right? Do you really want to be lonely for all that time? Besides, I'm sure that if you end up liking it here, you'll find a way to make things work. My parents have friends a lot of places who ended up far away. Aunt Fleur for instance – her whole family's in France and she wasn't too crazy about England long ago, or so I heard. But not she's go twice as many friends in twice as many places."

Scorpius looked away and sighed. "I don't know."

"Well… well, could you at least tell us about that picture?" Albus bit his lip.

After a pause in thought, Scorpius turned and shrugged.

"I guess. I have a scrapbook in my trunk that my uncle made for me. I'll show it to you if you like."

"Yeah!" Albus cheered.

"You two can," Rose replied huffily. "Now that you've gotten what you wanted, Albus, I'm going to bed."

She walked out of the room at a brisk clip and Scorpius glanced at Albus. "She always like that?"

"Ever since I've know her, which is since about forever. So – about that book?"

"Let's go. I'll show you."

"Excellent. And Scorp – can I call you Scorp? – did you really not notice that I was sorted into your house?"

"I was too busy."

"Pouting?"

"Trying to figure out what the heck the food in front of me was. Don't you ever serve hamburgers or hot dogs or pizza?"

"It's supposed to be a feast, not a fast food run," Albus laughed. "You mean you've never had steak and kidney pie or Yorkshire pudding or treacle tart?"

"Never had it? I don't even know what's _in_ that stuff. I mean, steak and kidney pie, maybe, but I'm not eating anything that I don't know what it is or I might be getting a sheep's stomach or something. Uncle Fred told me about you English and I've seen the Food Network specials; you guys eat some pretty freaky stuff."

Albus snorted as they dashed down the halls, hoping to avoid Peeves. "Well, you should try some of it. Maybe you'll like the food _and_ the people."

"Maybe," Scorpius replied as they came to the entrance in the dungeons. "Or maybe I'll get really sick. 'Sides, all that food is really heavy, tons of calories. I like fast food but I also know I need fruit and stuff like that. I'll gain fifty pounds eating the stuff here."

They made their way to the dorms where Scorpius' trunk was waiting. He dug through it, tossing out shirts, pants and robes as he did. Albus picked one of the shirts up and looked at it. It had a large number 10 on the back and a name written across the top."

"Manning," he read. "What's this?"

Scorpius pulled a heft book from the depths of his trunk and looked at the shirt Albus was holding. "It's a football jersey," he explained. "Eli Manning's. Used to QB for the New York Giants, my favorite team."

"QB?"

"Quarterback. I forgot, American football isn't too popular over here and since you're wizards all you probably know about is Quidditch – not about Muggle English sports, let alone Muggle American ones."

"I know about soccer and stuff. Dad was raised with Muggles and we go to Muggle London once in a while. You know about Quidditch, though?"

"Yeah, a bit. Dad used to talk about his days as Seeker. To be honest, I never really found it that interesting. Flying around on broomsticks, tossing balls or catching them – sounds like glorified basketball and polo. Kinda boring, not as physical."

"Well, if you haven't seen a game yet, we play it at Hogwarts so… wait until you've seen one to decide?"

"Alright, alright," he said, sitting on the edge of his bed and nodding for Albus to join him. He opened the book and spread it out across both their laps.

The first picture was one of Draco Malfoy and a brunette woman; she was holding a little bundle that Albus realized must have been Scorpius. Standing behind the woman was a silver-haired man, the same one Albus had seen in the photograph that had fallen out of Scorpius' bag.

"That's me, when I was born. That's my dad, Draco – I'm sure you know about him, or at least what your dad told you about him – and my mom Wanda. Behind her is my uncle Pietro."

"Your mom's brother?"

"Yeah, although people who don't know us well assume he's my dad's brother if they see them together. That was how they met; mom walked up to my dad and mistook him for my uncle, started reaming him out for something or other. Turns around and it's not Pietro, so she was real embarrassed. He had her agree to a date as an apology and well… you know how it goes."

He turned the page and there was a spread of four photographs with stickers spelling out the words "Brotherhood Forever!" interspersed between them.

"These are my uncles. Well, kind of," he told Albus, pointing to the first photograph of four boys and two girls in front of a dilapidated house. "That was where my mom and uncle used to live. And those are my uncles Lance, Todd and Fred," he said pointed to each in turn. "And mom and Aunt Tabby. This picture was taken back when they were teenagers – mom says they were real hoodlums back then. But they got sorted out, eventually."

"Brotherhood? What does that mean?"

"That's what they called their little group – the Brotherhood. Even when they weren't technically a gang anymore, they stuck together, kept in touch. Even though Pietro's the only one who's my real uncle, I call them all uncle because… well, we're like that." He pointed to the next photo where they four men and Wanda were there, posing. They were older in it, dressed in some kind of uniforms and light armor. "And this is them at work."

"Work? What do they do?" Albus looked at that, then over at the next photo where Pietro and Wanda were posing with a man with an eye-patch.

"They work for him," Scorpius pointed. "Nick Fury. They work at a place called S.H.I.E.L.D. Dad works there too, he makes potions to help them. I probably shouldn't be telling you all of this – technically it's classified – but being a wizard and all, and a Potter to boot – you can keep a secret, right?"

"Sure. Besides – who would I tell?"

"Thanks. I don't want to get my uncle in trouble. I don't think he was supposed to have some of these."

He pointed to the last photo on the page, Draco and a young blond man with massive wings.

"That's dad helping out one of his first patients. Angel – well, Warren – broke his wing and needed something to fix it fast. Dad set him up right away."

"Um… why does he have wings?"

"Mutant," Scorpius said as though it wasn't unusual. "That's what my entire mom's side of the family is. Everybody has different powers and we get trained on how to use them. Mom can fly and fire hex bolts, Uncle Pietro runs real fast, Todd can jump super high and has this wicked tongue, Fred is, well, just strong and big I guess, and Lance can cause tremors in the ground."

"What about her?" Albus asked, pointing back to the first picture.

"Tabby? She can send out waves of concussive force or even make these little time release bombs. That's why her codename is Boom Boom."

"Does everybody get a code name?"

"Yup. Mom's is Scarlet Witch, Pietro's is Quicksilver – I named my owl that – Lance's is Avalanche, Fred's is Blob and Todd's is Toad."

"What about your dad?"

"Green Dragon, although he normally doesn't do combat. He can if he needs to, though; he's just more useful back in the labs, fixing people up or brewing stuff to help out. The brewing doesn't work with non-wizards so it's not like he can just give them the recipes. He's got to do it himself so they don't want him 'endangering his person' as Nick says."

A page flipped and there was one large photograph, split in two, of a wedding party. Draco and Wanda were, Albus could see, the first couple and Lance was with another woman next to them as the second.

"Who's she?"

"Catherine Pryde, although most people just call her Kitty. Well, Kitty Alvers now. Her codename's Shadowcat. She can walk through walls and stuff, it's super-cool. Had to take mutation suppressing drugs when she was pregnant though; heard her telling my mom about it once. Couldn't use her mutation or it'd harm her kid. She's my best friend's mom, you know."

"That girl in the photo from your bag?"

"Yeah. Her name's Petra, after my uncle Pietro. He was her dad's closest friend back in the day so he's her godfather. She's my age and we've been friends ever since we were kids, a lot like you and Rose I'm guessing."

"Does she have powers?"

"Takes after her dad, only more so. She's called Tremor because she can cause them; but she can also control rocks and earth. Right now she's a bit rough but once she's trained up she's going to be pretty powerful." He sighed, wistfully. "She got to go to the institute."

"Institute?"

"It's a school in New York for mutants where they learn stuff like regular school, but also train to use their powers. I wanted to go there but my mom and dad said that I could only go when my powers manifested. I did accidental magic and thought it was hex power like my mom's at first, but they determined it was magic like my dad's. So I came here instead."

"You must miss her a lot."

"I do. And… well… we live in America most of the time. We only come here to visit my grandparents, keep up my dad's estate and stuff. I know a lot of things went on with my dad and his parents in the wizarding world a long time ago and we're not too popular because of that. But mom's dad was pretty crazy too and most people back home don't think it matters so much. And dad and mom work there now, not like dad's even involved in the American wizarding world. So I always thought… I always thought I'd get to be a part of that world, not this one," he sighed in disappointment.

"I'm sorry," Albus shifted uncomfortably.

"Nothing you did. I can't do anything unless I show a mutation and that… it might not be for a while. You're probably right though; I should at least try to enjoy my time here and learn something. I mean, my dad's skills turned out to be useful. Might not be worthless, even if I do end up transferring."

"That's the spirit!"

They turned the next page, a picture of a large mansion next to another one. Draco and Wanda were outside of it with a toddler Scorpius between them.

"That's our home in Greenwich Village. We live on a corner with crazy neighbor Stephen."

"Crazy neighbor Stephen?"

"Yeah, he's real nice but there are all sorts of crazy sounds and flashes and energy coming from his place. Last name's Strange and he calls his place the 'Sanctum Sanctorum.' He's real nice and polite and we have him over for dinner sometimes or we go to his place, but mom says I'm not to touch anything in his house under pain of death."

"Does he work where you parents do?"

"No. Kind of a free-lancer from what I understand. He does something but I don't know what. I'm not even sure if he's a mutant. But mom says he's helped her out from time to time so I trust him. Even if he is kinda crazy."

Together they went on, flipping through pictures of Scorpius in parks, running around with a variety of older mutants displaying a variety of powers. Albus thought he liked the singer who could control light and the blue, furry one the best. They looked friendly but exciting. Petra showed up in more and more of the pictures too.

"Where was that?" Albus asked, looking at a picture of Scorpius and Petra lying down on a mosaic circle, their bodies on either side of the word 'IMAGINE.'

"Uncle Pietro took that one of us. That's from Strawberry Fields in Central Park. It's a tribute to John Lennon and it's one of my favorite places in the city to go. Petra and I have picnics around there sometimes. When we were little, like four or five, we'd go to the Bow Bridge with our moms and play Poohsticks."

Albus chuckled a bit, but he laughed even harder when he saw the next picture.

"Where was this?" He grinned, looking at the picture of Draco Malfoy bedecked in leis, with a pineapple upside-down cake filled with candles in front of him. The pictures surrounding it revealed what seemed to be a limbo party and many of the people from earlier brandishing drinks with little umbrellas in them.

"This was in Hawaii. Dad had his birthday there with Alex – Havok – hosting it. That's him there," he said, pointing out a sandy-haired man. "He taught me and Petra how to surf while we were there."

"So this was recent?"

"Summer before last. It was a lot of fun and he says we can come back some time if we want." With that he yawned. "And I think I'm beat. If we're supposed to be going to classes we should probably get some sleep."

"Yeah, OK. Can we see the rest later then?"

"Sure, why not," Scorpius replied with another yawn. "It'll be there. They're Muggle pictures so it's not like they're going to move or wander off or something."

Albus smiled and nodded. "Good night then."

"Night," Scorpius replied from underneath his covers.

OOO

A/N: So, background. Lots of background. And I still haven't decide whether or not I'll continue this seeing as it's kinda plotless at the moment. Eh. We'll see.


	3. Arc 1: Memory Lane Part 2

OOO

OOO

"You know, I thought you were really brilliant in potions today, "Albus whispered as he made his way down the hall.

Scorpius shrugged. "It's what my father does for a living. I think I would know something about it. And what about you? I would have thought that somebody named after the oh-so-famous Severus Snape would have a better handle on is subject than that. Besides, wasn't your grandma supposedly a potions whiz?"

"You have zero tact, you know that?" Albus frowned. "And yeah, Grandma Lily was good – where'd you hear that?"

"Sorry. I was only being sarcastic. I don't think you need to be better in potions, comparatively. Not really. As for your grandma… that would have been from Slughorn. He talks too much. He might be head of our house, but I can't say that I care for him."

"You and me both." They reached the Room of Requirement and found it to be outfitted as it always was. Rather than getting dressed into workout clothes, Albus flopped down on one of the mats. "You know," he began, "I'm starting to think I'm with you in this whole 'not wanting to go to Hogwarts' bit."

"Really?" Scorpius undid the clasp on his robe and unbuttoned his collared shirt. "What's bringing this on?"

"You don't notice?' Albus looked at him with a pained expression. "I'm terrible at all my classes, everybody whispers behind my back, the Slytherins don't trust me, James hates me, nobody talks to me but you and Rose, I haven't even gotten any letters from my family beyond a couple of short 'hi, how are you, ready what we sent James' notes…"

"Al, it's only been a few weeks. Give them some time; I'm sure they'll write."

"You got a letter from your friend in New York the day after you sent her one," Albus grumbled, sitting up and pulling off his robe. "And it was long."

"Petra writes fast." Scorpius shrugged and tugged on a pair of athletic shorts. "Besides, she's probably just as lonely as I am. It's not always easy for somebody with her background to fit in."

"I know what she feels like. Oh, don't give me that look. You might think that it's fantastic being the kid of some war hero – all it does is give everybody a bunch of expectations you can't meet. Didn't you hear them in Defense class? 'Your dad was making a Patronus by year three – think you'll have it in year two?' 'Your dad founded Dumbledore's Army – going to start your own defense group now?' Your dad, your dad, your dad – I'm sick of hearing about my dad! And James! And everybody else I'm bloody related to!" He walked over to the punching back and socked it. "And now that James has made Seeker it's even worse."

"Do that without hand wraps or gloves and you're going to tear up your hands." Scorpius came over and gave him gauze and tape which Albus started winding around his hands. "I never did show you the rest of my album, did I?"

"You said you were going to but we never found the time, with homework and all – which, I notice, you're doing despite your protests."

Scorpius shrugged. "I don't really care to get a howler from my dad less than a month in, is all. Anyway, I think now might be a good time to go through some other parts of it." He went to his bag and pulled out the album, sitting down with Al on the floor and flipping through the pages until he came to a set with himself, Petra and a second boy with wavy auburn hair. "See him?"

"Yeah? Another friend?"

"That's Normie. We met in therapy."

"Therapy?" Albus quirked an eyebrow. "You've been to _therapy?_"

"Our mothers through it best. You see, our grandfathers - not my Malfoy one, but my grandpa on my mom's side - our grandfathers were pretty notorious back in the day as supervillains. Nor's tried to kidnap him on more than one occasion and mine was as bad as old Voldie when it came to killing 'normal' humans and cleansing the worlds for one special group – although he was set on mutants rather than wizards. We both had more than a few issues with our family and our past.

"And when people find out about that past, that's all that comes to mind when they see you. It's worse for Nor because of his last name, at least when we're at home. Over in America, people don't recognize Malfoy, but they sure as heck know what the name Osborn means. And over here, Maximoff isn't such a bad name but say Malfoy and all people think of is Death Eaters and pureblood mania."

"But you're not like that. You're nothing like that. I mean…" He blushed. "I don't think you are."

"Really?" Scorpius sounded bitterly amused. "Because the minute that hat said 'Slytherin,' I guarantee you that everybody shook their heads and whispered all that stuff about the apple not falling far from the tree."

"And me?" Albus asked quietly. "What about me?"

"Same thing, it sounds like, only reversed – 'what a shame he's not more like his father and all.' 'Didn't his parents set a good example?'" He mimicked high-pitched voices then looked at Al's crushed expression sympathetically. "I'm not saying that it's right. And I'm not trying to make you upset. But – you said so yourself. People changed the minute you got into your house and the only reason is because of the past. Who your parents are, who your grandparents are, the people who used to be in your house… nothing to do with you or who you are. But it's all that matters when people form their stupid assumptions.

"Back home, my friends and I have lived with that our whole lives. Me, Nor, even Petra. We come from families that… that have histories. Bad ones, with men who've done more than their share of terrorizing people. And it's hard to get along with people because of that. You start off on the wrong foot automatically with most people and it only goes downhill from there. Even when you don't try people find ways to be upset with you if they think they should be.

"But despite everything, we found each other, somehow. We made a connection to people who were like us. And we've stuck together through thick and thin, knowing better than to listen to what everybody else whispered about us behind our backs. And now – now we don't let it get to us. So they don't like us, so what? We've got ourselves and our friendship at the end of the day and that gets us through. 

"What I'm saying is… don't you think it could be like that with you and me?"

"Us against the world?" Albus quirked a smile. "For somebody who came here not wanting to make friends, you seem to be really eager to stick around me all of a sudden."

Scorpius shut the book and slammed Albus head with it. "You were the one who started it! Maybe you should go back to Rose if you don't care to hang out. I mean if you don't want to be friends, I'm sure there's lots of people in Ravenclaw…"

"Aw, shut up Scor." He grinned. "Let's work on the beam and the bars, and then you can show me the rest of that book of yours."

OOO

"Normie, what the hell is that bird doing at the window?" Harry Osborn looked at his son from across the table. "And what on earth is on its leg?"

The boy rolled his eyes and stood up to let the owl in, taking a piece of toast with him. "Don't worry about it."

"I've a perfect right to be worried about wild animals in my house!" He drank his coffee and gave the owl a critical glare as it nibbled the toast. "Does your mother let you do this?"

"Yes." Nor rolled his eyes again. "I told you, don't worry about it. It's nothing."

"And who's that from?"

"How many times do I have to tell you, it's how Scor delivers letters!" He gave Quicksilver a pat. "Don't you pay attention? I mean, it's not even like this is the first time I've had an owl letter."

"Just make sure it doesn't shed on the table or something."

"It's not a dog," he snapped as he scanned the letter. "Right then. I'm going out."

"Out? Where? And when will you be back?"

"Petra's and I don't know." He stuck his arm out and the owl perched on it. "Like I said, don't worry about it. I'll be back some time, not like you care."

With that, he grabbed his jacket and cell phone and made his exit, Quicksilver floating silently above him as he walked down the streets. Looking down, he scrolled through his phonebook until he found Petra's number.

"Pet? Hey! I just got a letter from Scor. You got another too? Well do you want to share? Yeah, Quick's with me. I'm going to go grab some Giant's stationary. You think Scor will like it? That's what I thought too. Alright. Well do you want to me in Central Park? Great! Then you can tell me how school's going. Sucks that I have to be in stupid regular school. Ok. I'll see you soon. Bye."

He snapped the phone shut and grinned as he walked.

Really, the only thing that could have made life better was if they were all three of them going to the same school. If Scorpius ever developed a mutation… He bit his lip. His mother had gone to great lengths to make sure he didn't follow in his male relatives' footsteps. But he had no mutant genes, he was pretty sure, and if Scor got to go the academy… well, he didn't want to be left out.

Assuming Scor ever developed mutant powers. The ones he already had were sounding pretty awesome. Normie sighed.

Some people had all the luck.

OOO

Albus peered over Scorpius' shoulder at the album the silver-haired boy was displaying to him.

"And here's us at a Giants game… here's us reenacting the final play of Super Bowl XLII – Nor is Eli, I'm Plaxico and Petra got stuck playing Belichick storming off the field – and here's my ninth birthday… here's the three of us watching Freddie eat 17 pies in 30 minutes… here's us sledding… here's me harassing the peacocks at the manor… here's the three of us dressed up for Halloween as Riku, Sora and Kairi… took forever to get Nor's hair to stand up like that… here are my grandparents…

"_That's_ your grandma?"Al slid forward, his eyes widened.

"Yeah…"

"You know, Scor," he grinned, "she's kind of a fox."

"_What!"_

"You know. Looks good for her age."

"Oh geeze, not you too."

"What do you mean by that?"

"That's exactly what Nor says! And Petra says the same thing about my grandfather!" He frowned. "It's gross!"

"What? Why?"

"They're my freaking grandparents!"

"I thought you'd be happy to hear something like that! Means you've got good genes. I mean, your dad's going bald but your grandpa didn't and your mom and your grandmom…" He gave a low whistle.

"Alright, you know what? That's it." He slammed the book shut. "No more of this! Besides, don't you have transfiguration homework you should be doing?"

"Oh come on, Scor. Are you really that upset?"

For a moment he glowered then his face relaxed. "Well, no. I suppose not. Not _that_ upset. But can we please not talk about my grandma like that anymore?"

"I'll still be thinking it you know…"

"Fine! Whatever! Just don't say anything to me!" Scor slipped under the covers and set the book aside. He put the light out and looked up into the darkness for a while. "Say, Al?"

"Yeah?"

"Think you'd like to visit during the hols?"

"Thought you didn't want friends here…"

"Oh would you stop bringing that up!" He glared. "I was wrong, ok? You're a lot of fun. And I'd be lonely as heck without you. And maybe I can put up with Hogwarts for a little while longer, so long as you're around. All the same, my real life is in America. And if you really want to get to know me, you should come back with me for a week or two, get to know my friends and family back there."

Everything went silent for a moment until Scorpius broke the silence. "Al?"

"Well… well, the house is always crowded at hols because of all our relatives. And James has been harassing me and it'll probably only get worse once we're back at home and around each other all the time. I can't imagine some of my relatives like Uncle Ron are too pleased with me. Maybe it would be good to get away for a bit." He played with the thick green curtains around his bed. "Are you sure your parents would be alright with it?"

"The house is huge and except for my friends mostly empty. There's more that enough space."

"I was thinking more in terms of your dad…"

Scorpius scoffed. "Are you kidding me? He's been trying since before I was born to reinvent himself. What would look better than to have the son of the illustrious Harry Potter over to visit?"

"Scor…"

"Sarcasm, Al. Only sarcasm. Really though. He'd probably love to have you over. Mom too."

"Guess I could ask my parents then. I think they'll let me. Pretty sure."

"Even if it means coming to America? I mean, it's not like visiting another part of Britain you know… "

"I thought you wanted me to come!"

"I do!"

"Then why discourage me? Let's ask and hope for the best."

"And if that doesn't work?"

"Well you have a floo port at your house, right?"

"Yeah…"

"Then I'll come. Anyway."

Scorpius laughed. "You know, Al, I think you're going to fit right in with my friends…"

OOO

"Just getting your letter now?" Petra teased as she sat down on the bench.

"Pft. Whatever." He rolled his eyes. "That only means he's not my boyfriend."

"He's not mine either!"

"Whatever you say, Petra…"

"Shut up Nor. You're such a jerk." She reached for the letter but he held it away.

"Well then maybe if I'm a jerk I won't let you read the letter!"

"Nor!" She crossed her arms. "Let's not forget who the one with powers here is?"

"Don't have to rub it in," he grumbled, handing the letter over.

"Thank you. Much better."

"So apparently we're being replaced by some guy with the name 'Albus Severus' of all things," he said, leaning back.

"Yeah. Scor said that Al's dad must have been as drunk as Mr. Malfoy was when he was naming Scorpius."

Normie laughed. "Yeah, sounds like it. Seems like he's learning a lot though. Even if it's just basic stuff. He said that they'll get to all of the really cool things a lot later on – assuming he stays enrolled in Hogwarts and doesn't come back here to go to school with you."

"Wish he would," she sighed. "At least he found somebody to hang around with."

"You haven't?" Normie looked at her sympathetically.

"Nobody's really keen to associate with a kid whose dad belonged to the Brotherhood."

"But your mom was an X-Man! And if the Professor let you in…"

"It has its moments. The Danger Room is fun, at least when I do well and don't end up with a ton of bruises. And most people are polite. But there's nobody I'm really close to. Besides, most of the girls are really girly anyway. So we don't have anything in common to be honest…" She handed Nor the letter back with another sigh. "I miss you guys."

"You're telling me. Scor's off to England, you're at the mansion, meanwhile I'm stuck with a bunch of stuffed shirts getting shuttled between my parents all the time – when my dad's not in rehab, that is – and none of us get to see each other on a daily basis anymore. It hasn't been very long but it's going to suck for quite a while."

"During school anyway. Scor says that he's invited Albus over for Christmas. The 'hols' as they are apparently called."

"So we'll get to meet this Albus Severus?"

"Apparently." She sucked in a breath then let it out slowly. "I can't wait. I've already made a countdown calendar. And dad says that we can go and meet him at King's Cross if we want."

"In England? Seriously?"

"Yep. Gonna jack the jet for an afternoon if nothing else is going on. Want to come with?" She grinned. "I'm sure my dad and Uncle Pietro would love to have you."

"Heck yes! Love to." He grinned. "You know, you have all the luck with godfathers. You and Scor both. I get stuck with a deadbeat who can't hold down a job to save his life, you get Quicksilver and Scor… Scor's godfather is a little bit weird but undeniably awesome."

"Plus he's coming over again for Christmas."

"Seriously? I wonder if he'll be bringing presents again. Wonder what he'll bring this time."

"That gold stuff he made the last time… worked like magic." She laughed. "I aced I test over something I hadn't even read!"

"It was magic, dummy." He rolled his eyes playfully. "And I know what you mean. Had the basketball game of my life hopped up on whatever it was. Started with an 'f' I think."

"I remember; I was there cheering you on. And speaking of sports – what do you think of that Quidditch thing he described?"

"If I could fly I'd like to try it. As I am sadly grounded, I'll probably have to stick with watching. Are there any teams in America? Is it broadcast in any format?"

"I don't think so. At least Scor didn't mention it. And technology doesn't work at his school, apparently, so he can't record his games for us. But we might be able to see a live game sometime. He says his dad can probably get us tickets."

"Awesome." He chuckled. "A sport that isn't broadcast yet? Sounds like opportunity to me."

"Well, can we forget about opportunity for the moment and grab some hotdogs? I'm starving."

"Yeah, sure. I'm buying though."

"Nor!"

"I insist." Quicksilver hooted. "See? Even he agrees with me."

Grinning, Petra zipped up her jacked and made her way with them down to the vendor on the corner.

OOO

"So what are we talking? Another Franklin Richards? I don't like the idea of pre-teens running around with more power than God. Metaphorically speaking."

"Actually, we think this could be worse. You see, it's a theory of power mixing. One type of power can combat its own kind. Spells versus spells, chaos magic versus chaos magic and so forth. Mutants involve organic materials and energy in different ways than wizards do. Problem is, if you mix yellow and red, you get orange not stripes. He will make a third category – a category in which he will be the exclusive member. And I think we all recall – or don't recall – what happened when his mother went off her rocker.

"Point is, any other mutant – might not be an issue. But he's got family. History. If he manifests, who knows how strong it will be? He comes from a line known for producing omega-class mutants. And who knows how it will interact with his wizarding heritage?"

"We're moving too fast. What are we going to do – punish the child for a power he hasn't even manifested yet?"

"By the time it manifests it might be too late." A frown. "The moment of manifestation – who knows what it might be like for him, what he might do? New mutants panicking at their powers appearing is far from uncommon."

"But with his family, surely he's prepared for such an eventuality. And I'm not prepared to take any kind of preemptive action against an eleven year old. We don't even know if he will demonstrate a mutation."

"I hardly think…"

"Your objections are noted. I will keep a close eye on him. But for now he's not to be touched. And if I find out that you've gone after him in any way, shape or form and you will answer to me – in the worst way. Am I clear?"

"As crystal."

OOO

A/N: Holy crap! Might that be some plot I see in the last section? Why yes I believe it might be. Also, yeah, I added Normie Osborn. Because a) I'm on a Spider-Man kick, b) I like groups of five and c) I love parallels. Lots and lots of parallels. And foreshadowing. Parallels and foreshadowing… Mmmmmmmm…

I'll be organizing this fic into 'arcs' very soon. First year will be a lot of laying the groundwork. And then… then it gets fun. And will move pretty fast. I hope. All in all, it will go through seventh year and beyond. And for those curious, pairings are already set.

So with that, I hope you enjoyed and that you'll leave a review if you are so inclined.


	4. Arc 1: The Godfathers

OOO

OOO

"It's not fair!" Thump. Thump. Thump. "I hate him!"

"Jesus, Al!" Scorpius grimace and braced himself against the bag that Al was punching. "It wasn't that bad! I mean, they only won by twenty points, two goals!"

"That makes it worse!" He smashed his fist into the bag. "We could have beaten them, almost could have… and it had to be James didn't it, stupid, stupid James!" He stepped back, panting, and looked at Scorpius with a pained expression. "And then my parents ask me if I was root for him!"

"Al... I'm sure they were just looking at it from a family perspective…"

"Well he sure doesn't act like family." Albus began ripping the tape off of his hands. "So I see no reason I should treat him like he is above my own house."

"Weren't always so keen on them either."

"They weren't keen on me until I became my first name instead of my last. Thanks in part to you."

"And to think that all it took was a very public spat with James and a blatantly biased Head of House."

"Yeah. I might have to end up taking what I said about Slughorn back too." He stretched. "James has been nothing but nasty and I'd rather see him fall off his broom and crack his head open than get the Snitch."

Scorpius suddenly became pensive. "You know… maybe that's not such a bad idea."

"What?" Al stood up, sweating, and grabbed a bottle of water that Scor had stocked on the sides. "What's not a bad idea?"

"James falling off his broom."

"Can't do it," he sighed. "Hexes interfering with game play are against the rule. Probably backfire and get us into more trouble than it would do anything to James. Besides, I'm sure one of the teachers would notice before it did any good. If Quirrell couldn't hex my dad back in the day…"

"Missing the point Al. Not what I meant at all." Scorpius climbed onto the balance beam and did a set of flips to the end before looking down at Al. "I was thinking more along the lines of an in-game solution. Now admittedly, I know more about wide receivers and tight ends than chasers and beaters. But if I'm not mistaken, bludgers can legally unseat a player, right?"

"That's what they're there for."

"So a beater could make sure that a bludger was always in the vicinity of one player, right?"

"Theoretically." He looked at Scor with an arched eyebrow. "You suggesting that we become beaters?'

"The current ones are in seventh year," Scorpius pointed out as he sat down on the beam. "Plus we have an advantage that others don't have." He made a sweeping gesture. "This."

""This isn't flying, Scor. And in case you hadn't noticed…"

"Yes, yes, I know. Quidditch requires excellent flying. But being a beater is more than that. The bludgers look pretty heavy and from the way they were being hit by both teams at the match, I'd say the upper body strength of most of the kids here is less than spectacular. They probably don't do much in the way of actual exercise at all. But we do and we can." His cheeks were red from exercise and getting redder with excitement. "And we could do more than that. With this place as our own personal training area – who knows what we could do! Perfectly coordinate our attacks, come up with plays and plans…"

"Whoa, whoa. Slow down. That's assuming I even want to play Quidditch. Or that I wouldn't want to be something else. Like a Seeker."

"What, like your father and your brother? More of living in their shadows? Listen to me, Al – you and I, with a little work and some serious muscle building, we'd be great! And it'd be nice if all this had a purpose a little bit sooner than me waiting to go back to America and join up with a team of some sort. Besides, weren't you the one who told me the first day on the train that I could be anything I wanted, even a Quidditch player? Well you can too! We'll be a pair, a duo, a team – the best team ever!"

For a moment Al's mouth hung open – then it creased into a smile. "You really think we can?"

"I'm _sure_ of it." He jumped down. "And there's no time like the present to start. Come on; let's try the lifting machine in the corner. You spot me and I'll spot you. Plus, I'll bet the next time we come we can need a tennis court. Build hand eye coordination, work on a swing, all that good stuff. Just you wait, Al. With the chaser squad we have, a couple of good beaters keeping the other seeker distracted are all we need and we'll be shoe-ins for the cup."

Al walked over and lay down on the bench. "Well then, let's get started."

OOO

"Didn't expect to find you in the greenhouse," Draco Malfoy drawled. "Digging in the dirt like Longbottom?"

Theodore Nott looked up from the plant he was pruning and dusted his hands off. "Don't be crass. I know damn good and well that you know the value of growing one's own ingredients. Only way to get anything with any peace of mind. Wouldn't be able to make half the stuff I do if I was ordering out of a catalogue or at a store, what with the ministry still looking over my shoulder." He pried off his gloves finger by finger and removed his apron. "Sometimes I wonder if I should have left this bloody place like you did."

"Instead you just remain a recluse."

Nott smirked. "It's not such a bad life. Plenty of peace and quiet, if nothing else. So, what did you need? I take it you didn't come all the way across the Atlantic for a friendly chat."

"Direct, as usual. Very well then – valerian and sopophorus."

"Oh? Mixing up a little draught of living death, are we?" He began moving to another part of the greenhouse, clippers in hand.

"You know I can't tell you that. But we are working on some… experimental things. I assume you are as well?"

"This and that. I merely keep myself occupied." He cast a spell to keep them fresh then put the plants into a brown paper bag. "Probably will never come to anything…"

Draco scoffed. "Bollocks. People might still moon over Granger and I might have managed to pass myself off as a dab hand at potions but, Slug Club and adulation or not – you were always sharper than anybody gave you credit for."

Nott winked as he handed Draco the bag. "Wouldn't wish it any other way. Would you like some tea before you leave? I would like to hear how my godson is doing you know."

"I have an hour or so I could afford to waste."

Nodding appreciatively, Nott began heading towards the house. "I'll tell the house elves to prepare it."

When they were at last seated in the study, Theodore sipping green tea and Draco Earl Gray, Draco gave a sigh of contentment. "Almost makes me wish I still lived in the manor."

"Almost."

"Almost," he nodded. "Scorpius wishes he were back in America. Or at least he did."

"Not adjusting well?"

"Not at first. Wanted to go to the same schools his friends did." Draco sipped again and groaned. "Heaven help me if he ever develops a mutation, especially one like my obnoxious brother-in-law's. Not sure how I'd handle him with two sets of power."

"Are you sure how everybody else would?" Nott looked at him over the brim of his glass.

"What does that mean?"

"Nothing. Paranoia I suppose. Merely that the Malfoys still have plenty of enemies of both persuasions, none of whom would be happy to see you with a multi-talented son."

"This is why we moved to a residence in America…"

"… where the phobia against mutants is as strong as it is against wizards or ours can be against Muggles. I'm not blind Draco and you shouldn't be either."

"I'm not going to go begging for trouble either."

"As you say. So has Scorpius made any friends at Hogwarts? I'd hate to leave anybody out if I stop by for the yuletide and bring gifts for Petra and Normie."

Draco chuckled. "That's the thing of it. Pouts as we send him off, sends letters home expressing the same – then starts mentioning Albus Potter of all people."

"Albus? The second son? The one who got sorted into Slytherin?"

'So you do have contact with the outside world. Yes, that one."

"I was wondering if they would connect." He drained his cup to the dregs. "And how do you feel about this development?"

"Good publicity, if nothing else, I suppose. Knowing a Potter will do him no disservice if he ever tries to integrate into our world."

"That is a very large 'if,' you do realize. Scorpius has been hoping he'll evidence a mutation for ages and with Petra…"

"I know, Theo, I know." He sighed. "I wonder if I did right by sending him back. Perhaps it was all a mistake."

"Only time will tell. In the meanwhile – more tea?"

OOO

"Damn it Lance!" Pietro rummaged around the fridge. "Why is there only light beer in here?"

"Blame my wife." Lance swigged from his own already open bottle and flipped the channel. "Says I need to lose weight."

"Well screw that. Load of bullshit." He grabbed a bottle and sat down next to him, twisting off the cap and tossing it on the floor.

"Better be picking that up." Lance glared.

"Let me guess – Kitty again?"

"Practically had a fit the last time all you guys were over. Said she had to have the carpets cleaned twice."

"That was Fred, don't look at me." He managed to down half the bottle in one go. "Suppose I could neaten up a bit though. So who's playing?"

"Celtics, I think, against the Bulls."

"Eh." He lifted the bottle again. "So how's my favorite goddaughter?"

"Well enough," he sighed. "Gets shit 'cause of me. Tries to hide it but I know she's upset. I mean, she's doing well at the combat. She can do stuff with vibrations and earth that I never could. Feel bad for her though. I know a regular school probably wouldn't be much better. But it's like being us before we had us. Not a whole lot of fun." He pointed a finger at him. "You better tell that nephew of yours to hurry up and develop speed or magnetism or some shit like that before she goes crazy. Might even be like that old days."

"Ah, the old days," Pietro chuckled. "Good times. And believe me, he wants to, more than you know." He finished the beer and dropped the bottle onto the carpet then sped into the kitchen for another. "I would have thought you would have wanted to keep the boys away for as long as possible, though." He smirked. "You know what ruffians boys are."

"I trust Scor not to do that," he glared. "You better not be making him into some kind of miniature version of you."

"I won't, I promise."

"Yeah, and I know what your promises are worth." He finished up his first beer as Pietro opened his third. "Seriously, though – how's he doing? Gotta suck, getting shipped off half a world away to some freaky boarding school with kids you never met before."

"Didn't like it at first, but he's made a friend. Gonna bring him here come Christmas time so we can get a shot a corrupting him," he winked. "Anyway, he says he's making do and keeping up with his training thanks to something called the Room of Requirement – yeah, I know, confused me too. He tried to explain it once but I didn't really get it. Says he's been lifting weights and stuff though. Plans to try out for something called 'Quidditch,' some kind of freaky wizard sport, along with his new friend. Who, incidentally, appears to be the child of his father's old school rival."

"Ah, friends. Good for hanging out with. Good for pissing parents off."

"You like all of Petra's," Pietro pointed out as he finished a fourth.

"Yeah, well Petra's a good kid. And I'm not exactly a typical parent. Kind of friends I had in school, I have no room to talk. Hell, she's friends with two supervillain descendants and she's still ahead of me. At least they're not out breaking windows or mailboxes or anything like that."

"Nope. Not at all. Just going to schools where their powers will be honed to the point where they'll be walking lethal weapons."

"LANCE ALVERS!" A female voice thundered and the door slammed. "That better not be a pile of beer bottles on my newly cleaned rug!"

In a blur, Pietro bagged them up and set the bag out on the curb with the trash. "All better," he grinned.

"Pietro. I should have know." She pushed past him into the living room. "I got Chinese takeout. You want to set the table?"

"Sure."

"Whipped," Pietro whispered as he made for the door.

"I heard that!" Two voices shouted at him simultaneous.

Laughing, he stepped out onto the stoop then sped off into the night.

OOO

"…and so there's no way I'm giving in to that bitch's lawyers. The pre-nup's solid, that much I'm sure of." Harry grabbed a cocktail as the waiter passed by.

"Yeah, I'm sure you'll work out everything with your… second?"

"Third."

"…third wife." Pete looked down into his punch and took a sip. "So how's Normie? He's with you this weekend, right?"

"Yeah, he's with me." Harry shook his head as he nursed the martini. "You know, sometimes I don't think I know him anymore. Only have a few weekends, busy half the time, and who knows what Liz has been telling him in my absence."

"I'm sure she wouldn't say anything bad about you to Normie."

"You've never had an ex-wife Pete. Bitches, the lot of them." He finished the drink and set the glass aside. "I mean, can you believe she had him going to therapy because of my dad? And now all he ever wants to talk about are his friends and their crazy schools and some stupid sport they play in England… Quad something or other…" He sighed. "You think you could talk to him, Pete? I mean, you're his godfather and you're better at this kind of thing than I am…"

"What do you mean? Talk about what?"

"You know. Life. Friends. _Talk_." He gestured vaguely, as if he were unsure of what do with his hands now that they had no glass in them. "You know what I'm trying to say, Pete."

"About girls and stuff?" He looked at Harry incredulously. "You can't be serious. You know how good I am at making stable relationships work. And isn't that a bit personal?"

"Probably already knows everything already from watching cable. And anyway, like I'm any better? I go through women like toilet paper. Besides, there are other things you should be talking about. Things I'm less qualified to talk to him about, if you know what I mean."

"Drugs and stuff?"

"Well, I wasn't going to come out and say it, but yes." He grabbed another martini and sipped. "I mean, a lengthy stint in rehab does nothing for my credibility there."

"Speaking of which, isn't that your fourth of the night? Maybe slow down?" Peter suggested nervously.

Harry laughed. "I was in rehab for LSD, not alcoholism. I'm fine, Pete. Anyway, I think the candidate is about to speak and I'm sure you need to be off somewhere snapping pictures…"

Peter nodded. "And I'll talk to Normie. Catch up with you later."

OOO

"So where's your dad?" Petra sat on the bed as Normie got into the chair by his desk.

"Gone. Some stupid political thing." Normie shrugged. "Anyway, you said you had something to show me?"

"Sure do," she grinned. "You have a PayPal account, right?"

"Yeah…"

"Awesome. Check this shit out." She leaned over him and began typing.

"Holy shit…"

"That's what I said." She grinned. "But it looks legit."

Nor grinned up at her. "Scor will go nuts. Think we should bid for it?"

"Pft." She scoffed. "It's got a buy now option. Do we really want to risk letting it slip through our fingers?"

"No, no we don't." A few clicks and he leaned back, satisfied. "…and…. Done!" He grinned at her. "Well, Petra, in a few short delivery days we will be the proud owners of a vintage October 1979 Playwitch."

"Lucius Malfoy cover."

"Complete with articles."

They laughed in unison.

"Scor is going to kill us!" She gasped for breath. "This is terrible!"

"I know! But this is totally going to be the best Christmas gift ever."

"_Totally_."

OOO

A/N: Again, light on plot. But most of the first 'arc' will only have hints at what's to come. Also Playwitch!Lucius was not my idea – I was inspired by art (not mine) on deviantart of just such a cover and was inspired by that.


	5. Arc 1: Christmas Party

OOO

"You're leaving so soon?" Rose followed Albus down the hallway, munching on a tree-shaped sugar cookie. "But the party has barely started! Uncle Percy's family hasn't even come in yet, or Uncle Bill and Aunt Fleur…"

"I promised Scorp I'd be there ages ago," Albus sighed apologetically. "Look, it's not like I never get to see my family anyway. Everybody's always coming in and out of Grandma Molly's house."

"And you spend every day with Scorpius!" Rose retorted, her cheeks flushing in anger. "You've stopped talking to James, you barely even talk to me anymore…"

"But I've never gotten to really meet his family. As for not talking to you – I'm sorry. I try to make time, but I'm in a different house!" He protested. Then his expression darkened. "And as for James – that's his fault."

"Albus, you shouldn't fight with your brother."

"You hear the sorts of things he says about me! About my house!" He shook his head. "Never mind. I don't expect you to get it. Look, I need to get going. I'll see you in a few days."

"Well…" She finished the cookie and brushed off the crumbs. "Couldn't I come with you?"

"You don't have anything packed. Your parents wouldn't give you permission. And besides, you can't just invite yourself over to somebody else's house for a few days!"

"I can pack up in about five minutes, they can't say no if I don't ask and I'm sure you could convince Scorpius to let me come with you," she said, ticking off the reasons one by one on her fingers. "Come on, Albus! I'm your cousin. And your friend. And your friends should get to know your other friends, don't you think?" She gave him a too-bright smile but his expression didn't change. "Fine, then! What about inter-house unity? Your dad's always going on about that. Convince Scorpius to let me visit, make a few Slytherin-Ravenclaw connections…"

"Fine!" He threw up his hands in defeat and grabbed a handful of floo power from the jar on the mantle. "Fine! Just stop talking my ear off. We can ask. Alright? Come on. We'll go first and see if it's okay and then you can pop back and grab your stuff."

She clapped him on the back. "Thanks, Al. Knew you'd see it my way."

"I'm going to regret this, aren't I?" He moaned and threw the power into the fire, tugging her in when it turned green. "The Malfoy mansion on Bleecker Street!"

OOO

Normie paced and looked at the clock on the microwave nervously. "It's almost seven! The party starts at seven! I don't know what I'm supposed to _do_." He muttered to nobody in particular.

"Why don't you take a cab over?" Harry's girlfriend Lily suggested brightly, lifting a cup of warm spiked punch to her lips.

The boy glared at her, sneering. "You can't just find their house. It's not that easy, dummy. It has charms and stuff."

"Oh."

Harry crossed his arms and glared back. "You know, I really don't like you hanging out with these freaks…"

The grandfather clock in the hall started chiming the hour and, in between the chimes, Normie heard hoots. Getting up from the table, he barreled down the hall to the clock, followed shortly by his father and Lily. There, atop the clock, was an owl, staring down at them as the clock rang for the last time and the sonorous chime faded.

"Damn it, Normie!" Harry snapped. "I told you, I don't want your friend's pet in the house! It's not sanitary!"

"That's not Quicksilver," Normie whispered. "And he's not carrying a letter. What…"

"Most observant of you, child." Suddenly, in place of the owl, there was a robed man sitting atop the clock. He leapt down, his deep green, embroidered cloak billowing out and giving them the impression that he was floating. "And a very Merry Christmas to you, young Norman."

"Mr. Nott!" He gasped and clapped.

Taking no notice of the other adults present, he handed the boy a package. "Here."

"A present for me?"

"No," he laughed. "Merely proper attire for tonight." Before Normie's face could fall, he went on. "But I do have a gift for you – on I think you'll find to be rather splendid. The only problem is – I need to build it."

"Build it?" Normie looked at him, fingering the deep maroon fabric of his new robes.

"Would you do me the honor of showing me to your room?"

"Hey!" Harry grabbed Nott's shoulder. "What do you think you're doing? This is my house; you can't just invite yourself in! And what do you think you're planning for his room?"

"Touch me again," Nott said, looking him in the eye, "and I'll stupefy you for the whole evening."

His eyes bored into Harry's and then into Lily's, making them shudder. By the time they recovered, Normie and Nott had vanished down the hall and up the stairs.

"So what's my present?" Normie asked, sitting on his bed.

"This. Now, watch carefully." Nott floated the furniture in his room around until there was a blank spot on the wall. "A permanent transfiguration spell, when I use the right materials. Nobody will be able to undo the charm. And you will… well… here." He waved his wand at several stones he'd set on the floor which promptly shaped themselves into an elaborate, tall fireplace, complete with friezes.

"A fireplace?"

"Not a mere fireplace." He withdrew a bottle of green powder from a bag around his waist. "A floo port." He walked up to the flames and extended his hand. "Now come, child. The night grows deep. And we've a celebration to attend."

Harry reached the door just in time to see his son disappear into a green fire.

OOO

As her parents drifted off to talk to the other adults, Petra stood still and fidgeted with her sleeve, looking over at the massive table of refreshments that had been set out. She was considering going over and getting something to drink, but was a bit wary of getting anything on the lovely new dress Mr. Nott had given her, despite her parents' objections, to wear that evening. It wasn't often she got clothing so nice and she didn't want to splash it with punch or drop an hors d'oeuvre on it.

"Hey there lovely lady."

Petra turned her head to see Scorpius in a high-collared dress robe. "Scor!" She gave him a hug. "I was wondering why you weren't at your own party."

"It's my parents' party actually," he said, hugging her with a laugh. "And I was trying to make sure I looked perfect for tonight."

"Oh?" She grinned. "Any special reason?" She snapped her fingers. "I know! It must be that charming Normie fellow I heard was coming. Dressing to impress him are we?"

He gave her a light, playful punch to the jaw. "Keep talking like that and people will believe you. Speaking of looking perfect though… wow."

"Your godfather gave it to me." She blushed. "To think, I was going to show up in jeans."

"Well you'd have looked great either way. Red is really your color though – and I love the way it flows. Shall we get something to eat?" He began leading her over to the table.

"I was going to. But I'm worried about the dress." Her blush deepened. "You know I'm a bit messy and I don't want to ruin such a lovely gift."

He shook his head and smiled. "No worries. If my Uncle Nott gave it to you, that means it's wizard clothing, so I'm sure it's been enchanted to be extra stain resistant. And even if you did manage to get something on it, there are spells that can take it off. With all the wizards wandering around here, I'm sure somebody could spare a wand to sop up a punch stain."

"Well then, you've taken away all my objections." She grinned. "And that food looks delicious. Let's eat!"

As they made their way down the line, a hand suddenly grabbed Scorpius' shoulder and he turned to see Albus. "Al! You're here!" He tapped Petra so that she turned around too. "Petra, this is my friend Al, from school."

"You told me about him." She offered Al the hand that wasn't holding her plate. "So is your name really Albus Severus?"

Albus glared. "You told her that?"

"What! It's your full name."

"Don't worry," she whispered. "I laughed when I heard Scorpius Magnus for the first time too."

"Scorp, we gotta talk."

"What's the matter? Here, grab some food." He passed him a plate. "The house elves have been working at it all day. It looks fantastic and, believe me, it probably is."

"Scorp, Rosie followed me," he blurted.

"What?" He didn't look angry, merely surprised.

"She says she wants to get to know my friends. Including you. Says it will build inter-house unity."

Scorpius quirked an eyebrow. "Uh… okay… was she thinking of staying over?"

"Yeah, I think so. Look, I'm sorry, it's really rude, I'll tell her to go…"

"Not at all. I don't mind." The silver-haired boy leaned in. "But isn't her dad going to be furious?" He whispered.

"He kinda doesn't know she's here," Albus explained as he grabbed various little pastries and savory treats.

"Who's Rosie?" Petra asked, popping a petit four into her mouth.

"Al's cousin. A Ravenclaw. Smart, red-head… that's about all I know."

"Bossy," Al filled in, and then cleared his throat when he saw their looks. "She's really nice though, once you get to know her."

"I see." He paused. "Well… do _you_ want her to come?"

Al shrugged. "I have been ignoring her a bit of late, what with all our training and everything. And, well, maybe she does have a point about inter-house unity. Dad's always asking me if we've made friends in other houses."

"What?" Scorpius scoffed. "Like the Gryffindors."

"Something like that."

"So is Rosie your only cousin?" Petra sat down in a chair that Scorpisu pulled out for her.

"Not by a long shot!" Al laughed. "My mum had six brothers and four of them have kids. Not to mention all the really close friends of the family who practically count as cousins. I've got more than I know what to do with." He began eating. "Kinda of why I want to come here," he said between bites. "The house is always way crowded at the holidays. Enough to drive a person spare." He looked at Scor who was seated between Albus and Petra. "But she can come?"

"Fine by me," he shrugged.

"Shouldn't you ask your parents?"

"The house is huge and always half-empty. My parents probably won't even notice. And mom will be more than happy to have more company."

"And your dad?" Albus raised an eyebrow.

"Won't notice?" Scor grinned. "Hey, if she's hanging out with us, getting in trouble… those are the risks."

"I'll go get her." Al winked.

"And make sure she's dressed!" Scorpius whispered. "I'm not big on clothes like these either but the last thing I'm sure she needs is my dad or my grandparents making 'Weasley' remarks!"

"Your grandparents are showing up?" Al and Petra echoed simultaneously.

"Yes! Now go!" He shooed Al away then looked at Petra. "Why are you blushing like that?"

"No reason." She hummed to herself. "So when's Normie getting here?"

"Uncle Nott was going to get him…"

"Right behind you." Normie plunked into the seat next to Petra. "Check out the robes your uncle gave me! Aren't these sweet?! And he installed a floo port in my room!"

"Me too!" Petra grinned. "Seriously, Scor, you have the best godfather _ever_. I mean, I love my Uncle Pietro. But… wow."

"Oh! And speaking of presents, I brought yours." He winked. "You're going to love it."

Scorpius looked from one friend to the other, both of whom were barely suppressing giggles. "What did you two do? I hate to think…"

"Back!" Albus sat back down, a red-head a few steps behind him.

"Aren't you going to introduce me?" The freckled girl demanded.

"I was getting to that!" He stood back up. "Scor, Petra… Normie?" The other boy nodded. "This is my cousin Rose Weasley. And I'm Al Potter."

"Albus Severus," Rose corrected and Al blushed as Normie stifled a laugh but managed to keep his eyes on Rose.

"Yes." He snapped, irately shaking Normie's hand while trying to glare at Rose. "Albus Severus."

"Well it's good to have you here Rose. Did the house elves get your bags?"

"Yeah, they said they were going to set us up on the third floor."

"You're staying too?" Petra looked over at the girl who nodded. "Cool! We can show you two around the city then."

"We'd love to," Normie added. "You're going to have the time of your life."

"I don't think it could be better than London," Rose said with a snippy air.

"It is," Normie insisted. "I've been to both. I would know."

"Have you been to _wizard_ London?" She challenged.

"Rose!" Al hissed.

"Come on, let's get some food, alright? And I'll show you to my parents." Scorpius tapped their shoulders and tried to gear Rosie away.

The moment he was gone, Petra smiled at Normie. "So, you have the magazine all ready?"

"Ready, wrapped and waiting beneath their family tree. Mr. Nott put it there, especially."

"Did you tell him what was inside?"

"I don't think I need to tell him anything. But I did. Because… you know."

"Yeah. Yeah." She took a drink of punch. "He's really awesome. Sometimes I wonder why he never had kids."

"Who knows?" Normie shrugged. "People who shouldn't have kids do, people who'd be great parents never are… the way things work. Besides, Scorp's his kid, kinda."

"Kinda. And speaking of parents – when do you think his grandparents are going to get here?"

"I dunno. You think his grandpa's going to be mad about the Playwitch?"

"Maybe." Petra grinned. "And if he is, I kinda hope we're there to see it."

OOO

"A Weasley?" Draco grumbled.

"Dear!" His wife gave him a warning glance.

"Good relationships with their family would not go amiss," Nott reminded him. "Children of war heroes and all that?"

"Don't remind me."

"Besides, Albus was quite nice. The girl was a bit… strong."

"At least she's not a Gryffindor."

"Dear!" Wanda slapped his arm, and then turned with a smile as a guest came in the door. "Stephen!" She beamed and went over to give him a brief embrace. "How lovely to see you!"

"Good to see you as well, Wanda. Draco. Mr… Nott?"

"Yes." He stretched out his hand. "Good to see you again Dr. Strange."

He nodded. "You'll forgive me if my memory is not all that it could be at the moment."

"Something on your mind?" Wanda asked, coming up to him with punch.

"There always is," he said with a smile and drifted off to mingle.

On his way over to the table of food, he noticed Scorpius brush past him with a wave. As the boy sat down with the four other children, Stephen felt his attention being sharply drawn. He observed them for a few moments: the black haired boy was wildly gesticulating and the others were laughing at whatever story he was telling.

For a brief moment, power had emanated like a breaking wave. It was gone in a moment, however, and with all five so close together there was no way to tell which had caused it. Scorpius' potential was worrying to some, he knew, and he wondered if this wasn't a sign of things to come.

Whatever it signified, though, it meant the boy and his confidants bore close watching.

OOO

A/N: Next time, the Malfoy grandparents enter the picture. Along with a few more hints of some long term plans. Oh, and kudos to however gets what the first scene between Nott and Normie is referencing. ;) Oh, and yeah… the floo stuff… couldn't remember if Muggles could floo or not. But we'll say yes, here, if with a wizard. And barring that… Normie and Petra are special? Maybe?

And there it is.


End file.
